


No Salvation for the Unholy

by skylarkblue



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-17
Updated: 2013-05-17
Packaged: 2017-12-12 03:48:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/806860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skylarkblue/pseuds/skylarkblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sarah Blake lives. Her husband does not.<br/>She joins the Winchesters, hellbent on revenge - but they have their own problems to deal with, starting with closing the gates of Hell.<br/>It only goes downhill from there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Salvation for the Unholy

It was never supposed to be like this.

She was supposed to go home. Drop her keys on the table. Kiss her husband on the cheek, scoop her baby girl out of his arms and plant kisses from the top of her head to the tip of her tiny nose. She was supposed to curl up on the couch with her favourite movie, Ian preparing dinner and watching along from the kitchen.

Instead.

She clawed at her throat, trying desperately to breathe in, choking as the air refused to make it past her lips. Sam's gentle hands were cupping her face, his voice telling her it was going to be okay, but she knew a lie when she heard one. Dean was screaming something, but it barely sounded like a whisper as her ears filled with a buzzing and her vision began to fade to black.

Dean screamed again.

"Cas! I need you!"

-x-

The nephilim fell to the ground with no grace. Her body slumped, blood gushing from the wound in her neck. Castiel frowned, kneeling, his fingertips brushing over her eyelids. Even if she was what Metatron called an abomination, respect was to be shown to the dead.

"Well done, Castiel."

He looked up, a frown furrowing his brow. Metatron had relaxed and was smiling down at him serenely. He found it unnerving and said nothing in response. There was no need - he had done as he was asked. Killed. Taken an innocent life. But the elder angel assured him again he had done the right thing. It didn't feel like the right thing, but at this point, Castiel was so desperate to fix his mistakes, he had to trust. He had to believe.

"What do we - I must go."

"Castiel?" Metatron gave him a look of confusion he ignored. The angel straightened, adjusting his trench coat.

"You can take care of the body from here, yes?"

"Castiel, where are you-"

He vanished in a fluttering of wings.

-x-

Sarah Blake was very near to death.

Castiel could see the reaper standing in the corner of the room, observing quietly as Sam choked empty promises over her body and Dean let out a frustrated scream, tearing through the room. Crowley's voice sounded from the phone's speaker, taunting them.

"...you great, big, bloody heroes. I'm going to rip it apart piece by-"

With a huff, the angel threw the phone to the wall with little effort. It shattered, revealing the hexbag within. Dean torched it within moments, chest heaving as he turned his gaze to the woman's body. Sam froze, staring down at her panicked eyes. The reaper stepped forward. Castiel put a hand out to stop it.

"Wait."

Sam was certain the sound of her breathing in, and the cry that came afterwards, was one of the most beautiful things he ever heard. She breathed again, and again, taking in air, choking out sobs. Her face went to his neck as his arms came around her and held on for dear life. "You're okay. It's okay."

The reaper vanished after shooting a glare in Castiel's direction. Dean stood, visibly shaken, and crossed the room.

"Cas, thank you." He hugged him tight, surprised when the gesture was returned. He pulled away and stared into Castiel's eyes, but the angel refused to meet his gaze. He looked so damn tired, frowning heavily, a small smear of blood at his forehead. Dean knew better than to ask, but he still felt a tug of something at his chest, that little ache that told him Cas didn't trust him. Again.

"It was no trouble. I trust you no longer need me?"

Dean stared again, biting back the words _I always need you_. And he did, damn it, because not knowing where Cas was scared him. This business with Naomi scared him. The angel tablet scared him, and it had been a long, long time since he had admitted he was scared. He was close to it now, but held back, instead clapping one hand to the angel's shoulder. His anger had abated, but he didn't know how to express his concern, or explain, or apologise. So he let Castiel go.

"Good." The angel left again, to god knows where. Or maybe God didn't know. Dean snorted, turning back to his brother, who was still holding Sarah like she was the most precious thing he'd ever set eyes on.

"Everybody okay?"

It was a redundant question. None of them were really okay. Sarah was still crying into his brother's shirt, slim shoulders shaking under her blue top. Sam stared up at him with dead eyes. Dean idly thought he looked worse than he had after going to Hell and back. And as for himself, well, that was something best not touched until after several bottles of whiskey, which were definitely in order.

-x-

Sarah groaned, leaning into the steering wheel. The glowing green numbers in her dash read 03:20. It had taken her three hours to drive back to home, but she was glad to finally be there. Though Ian wasn't expecting her back until tomorrow night, he wouldn't ask too many questions.

Stepping out of the car she took in a deep breath of crisp night air with her eyes closed. After those painful minutes of being unable to breathe, she'd never take it for granted again. Her fingers closed around the chain hanging around her neck; from it hung an anti-possession amulet, a protective sigil, and a small hex bag that would supposedly keep her under the radar until the boys could sort out something more permanent. They had given her their cell numbers with the promise that they'd let her know as soon as she was completely safe, saying she'd be the first one they'd call once they closed the gates. She'd just nodded, dazed, and given them hers in return.

As she approached the front door, Sarah felt her skin crawl, hairs raising, a chill running down her spine as though someone had stepped over her grave. The door hung open. From within she could hear the baby crying. Loud, desperate cries for her attention. Trying to swallow down her fear, she reached into the darkness and switched on the light.

His eyes were open, but painfully empty, and the blood that pooled around him made it obvious as to why. His spine was unnaturally twisted, his body forced to contort over itself. There was blood at his eyes, his mouth, from his ears; scratch marks at his neck mirrored her own. Crowley had gone to town on Ian, putting him through every physical pain imaginable before mercifully ending his life.

For the second time that night, Sarah found herself breathless. Her baby kept crying, and soon, she joined her.

**Author's Note:**

> Future chapters will be longer than this, I hope. Essentially - welcome to the shamelessly self indulgent season nine of Supernatural! I hope to update this every two weeks, if not more. I hope you like it.  
> UPDATE as of 26/6/13 - I had no internet for a month and I'm currently unpacking my house, along with a whole bunch of personal stuff going on right now. I intend on having the next chapter up by the end of the week, sunday at the latest, but it really depends on a few things, & I'm sorry it's taken this long.


End file.
